


The Bookworm

by ElBevuardo



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Yogscast
Genre: AKA Shy Ross and Cocky Smith, High School Hats, If you came here for premium trash content then you've come to the right place bucko, Literally just a squishy drabble, M/M, Teenage Hats AU, library fic, smornby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElBevuardo/pseuds/ElBevuardo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ross has always been shy; with his family, his friends, his classmates - and especially with the blue-eyed boy in the library. Every day, Ross finds him sitting at the same table, reading, and every day, Ross finds himself hiding behind a book at the edge of the closest bookshelf, watching him, wishing he had the courage to approach him. So what's to happen when the blue-eyed boy decides to approach him first?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bookworm

**Author's Note:**

> I recently rewatched a favourite show of mine, Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi, and one of my favourite scenes is one in which the protagonist watches the main love interest from afar in their high school library. So, it got me thinking (and because I'm not as fond of the characters as I am of the plot in the show), what would it be like if I wrote a more relaxed, laid-back version of this scene, but with Smith and Ross? I think it turned out well, but I'm not sure. I don't usually write short little drabbles like this, but if y'all prefer this to my usually lengthy fics, or you have any suggestions for stuff I can write, gimme a shout or whatever, before I run out of fic ideas!  
> Hope you like my little piece of trash!

He had seen him. Ross could tell, from the peculiar, none too subtle way he continued to glance over at him from where he was hidden, behind a bookcase in the school's library; to the way he hardly seemed to be reading his book anymore; to the shadow of a smile that crept onto his lips with every glance that he cast in his direction. Ross knew why he was smiling: this whole ordeal was ridiculous.  _He_ was ridiculous. He had probably assumed that he had unfortunately acquired a ridiculously unattractive stalker. Here he had found himself, hiding behind the historical fiction section, peering wistfully, pathetically, over at some guy he didn't even know, had never even talked to, never exchanged names or even mere glances with, some guy who would no doubt think of him as a freak if he knew him, knew what he was like, knew that the only reason he came to this library was to see his blue eyes and pale face and wave of auburn hair, all hunched over a book held between two large, calloused hands. God, Ross really  _was_ a freak.

He was glancing over again, his blue eyes, much darker than Ross's own pale blue, meeting his for just a second, and he tried so hard to hold his gaze, he really did... But he was too shy, too closeted about his emotions. His head snapped back down, eyes fixing on a blurry page of the book in his trembling hands, his cheeks glowing a furious shade of scarlet. Why did this guy keep looking at him? Maybe he was wondering if people could really look quite so awful, quite so ridiculous. Maybe he had something in his hair? Or maybe he was just too polite to ask him aloud to go away. Couldn't he just put Ross out of his misery? Dammit, why did attraction have to be such a stupidly complicated ordeal? Why couldn't it be so simple, so effortless, like all of those shitty novels and movies always conveyed it? It was hardly fair. He would have preferred a quicker, cleaner ending to this whole affair, would have simply preferred for the boy to even approach him, ask him kindly to move on and stop coming to this library to stand in this very same spot day after day after school instead of going home.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" He heard somebody ask, the voice quiet, rather high-pitched for a male's voice. It wasn't a voice he recognised, and he absently glanced up from him book, before realising his error. But it was too late to look back down now, because there he was, those deep blue eyes staring down at him through the tiniest gap in the bookshelf, his eyes not very far above him. They were almost the same height, Ross observed. Much taller than he had looked when he was hunched over a book in the corner of the busy library. It was a height that surprised him, as there weren't many in his high school that were quite as tall as Ross was, never mind taller.

His eyes were still fixed on him. Waiting for an answer. Was there an adjective for such a shade of blue? To say they were "piercing" blue would be too harsh for such a deep shade, would hardly do such a colour any justice. What were his eyes doing? Glaring? No, that sounded too angry, as though he were enraged at his presence so nearby to where he had been sitting rather contentedly just moments before.  _Was_ he enraged? Ross hoped to hell he wasn't; he hated confrontation. 

He whipped his gaze back down to stare at his book, the words jumbling, blurring, messing together in a muddle of useless adverbs and an almost obscene over-usage of punctuation that his English teacher would have had a fit over.

"I'm not." He lied. Well, it was half a lie, at least. He had been looking over at him before, sure, but now he wasn't, right?

Wrong. His hands were resting a shelf below his eyes, and Ross was studying them instead, unable to concentrate entirely on the book in front of his eyes. How could he ever concentrate on any book, when he was  _right there_ , so close to where he was stood? He had never been this close to him before, had always avoided being too nearby in case he recognised him in the library at the end of their school day. It frightened him, to say the least. He concentrated back on the matter at hand,  _his_ hands: large, calloused, pale, hands made for playing an instrument, but not one as delicate as the piano. He had heard the boy could play guitar, had heard he could play beautifully. Was his playing as beautiful as his eyes? It was such a shame he hadn't the courage to look at them.

"Yeah, yeah. And I'm a 6-foot blonde with double-Ds and a size-6 waist." The boy laughed, and his grin was crooked, giving the slightest flash of white teeth, and sending butterflies right into Ross's stomach. His eyes were half-closed and creased at the corners as he grinned, and Ross could swear he looked much older than his years. If he had been any of the girls in his year, he would have fawned at the sight. Instead, he tightened his grip on the book in his hands, debating whether or not he should drop the book and run for the door. It wasn't a particularly interesting book, anyway, just the first one he had picked up, from a shelf close enough to him for Ross to see the boy, but not too close so that he would notice him straight away.

Still, maybe it would hardly have mattered which shelf he had chosen to hide behind? It seemed as though those attentive blue eyes could spot him half a mile away. He certainly knew he could spot them. How could he not? He stole another glance at his eyes, and butterflies swarmed pathetically in his gut. Dammit, he wasn't a girl, he had to stop acting like one!

"You could'a just come up and said hi, y'know." The boy said. The crooked grin on his face and settled into an almost humble smile, one that had Ross's cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of scarlet all over again. Ross closed over his book and slid it back into the shelf - realising all too late that he had been holding the book upside down the entire time - hiding his face from view. Then, he quickly started walking away, picking up another random book about two-thirds of the way down the long bookshelf. He had come here to admire from afar, he was hardly brave enough to talk to the boy yet.

"What's the whole point in getting my attention, right," a book popped off of the shelf next to Ross's head, and the dark-haired boy jumped in fright as it hit the floor beside his feet, "if you won't stay and talk to me?" He was right there, on the other side of the bookshelf. Ross met his eyes, and then glanced away, his eyes meeting anything, everything, the strip-lights on the ceiling and the bookshelves behind him, the computers lining the wall to his left and the windows to his right. A moment passed, and Ross slammed the book back into place.

"I...I wasn't  _trying_ to get anyone's attention!" He protested, staring down at the book beside his feet. God, this was the last thing he had wanted, to have this boy questioning him. This could end badly, so very badly, he wouldn't be able to come back here after school anymore in case he was questioned any further, this could get so  _ugly_ , and-

"Well, that's too bad. You got it anyway, mate." The books on the shelf were pushed aside, squashed against one another, and the boy crossed his arms atop the wooden shelf, resting his chin there and smiling expectantly down at Ross. God, he was cute. This was awful, he shouldn't have been so cute and then maybe Ross wouldn't be so caught up in his own stupid, unrequited feelings! "You're not hard to spot, y'know. Tall, face like a twelve-year-old boy caught with his dad's magazines," he flushed an even deeper shade of red at that, proving the boy's point only further, "and you're kinda cute, I don't know, man." He had a different accent from most of the people in his year. The boy hadn't been there too long, a few months, but Ross wasn't sure where he'd come from. He liked his accent nonetheless; it held a shade of Cockney, but then, he had never been very good at discerning accents.

"Cute? Wh-what are you, like...  _Gay_ , or something? Hah..." Ross laughed almost nervously, wringing his hands together as he spoke.

"Why? That wouldn't be a problem, would it? I mean, sorry to point it out, mate, but you're the one that;s been staring over at me from this shelf for the last few months. I wouldn't be the one with the problem here." He smiled as he spoke, lightening his own words, and Ross frowned, eyebrows furrowing.

"That's bullshit! I haven't been over here staring at you for three months! In fact, one time, I was over there, so..." Ross realised his mistake as he raised his hand to point towards the window, and lowered it with another nervous laugh, biting his lip almost anxiously. "I mean, ah... You talk some amount of bullshit, for somebody that doesn't talk much."

"Same could be said for you. I've been doing more talking than you here, to be honest. And I'm stuttering less." Something flashed in his terrifying blue eyes - it was the first word that Ross had thought of to describe his eyes, and so far the only word that he believed fitted their appearance very well. "I'm Alex. But call me Smith." He didn't bother to outstretch his arm for a handshake, just smiled almost lazily. Ross nodded, still nervously wringing his hands.

"I'm... I'm Ross. Ross Hornby."

"Ross  _Horny_?" Alex's eyebrows shot up as a grin spread across his face, and Ross felt his heart sink. Not another one.

" _Hornby_. Like the train sets. I swear, you probably think you're the first person to make that joke, but you're really not." He let a nervous smile slide onto his face, and Alex shrugged.

"Eh, thought it was worth a shot. So, Ross. Nice to meet you. I'd ask if you come here often but I think we've already covered that." He winked, and Ross's gut did excited backflips. Was it possible for a boy to be so beautiful? He'd always thought that the adjective was one reserved only for girls with curled hair and pretty dresses, but now, meeting Alex's eyes, he realised that even somebody like this cocky blue-eyed boy could be beautiful, too.

Alex glanced at the watch on his right wrist absently, and then sighed. "I gotta go, man. Didn't realise the time, and I've got a few dungeon runs with my guild lined up, so..." He shrugged, and then held out his hand. "Gimme your phone a minute."

"What?" Ross frowned. Why did he need his phone?

"Your phone. You  _have_ got one, right?" Ross nodded, frowning, and dug in his pocket, pulling out his phone a moment later and passing it to Alex over the shelf. A few seconds passed of Ross studying the boy's concentrated expression, brows furrowed and creasing in the middle, bottom lip jutting out to one side as he concentrated, and then Alex smiled, handing his phone back. The dark-haired boy checked the screen, realising he had added a telephone number to his contacts, and a blush crept across his face again. "Is your face ever  _not_ red? What are you, too warm?" Alex laughed. "But hey, call me, right? And I'll see you tomorrow, huh?" He sounded almost hopeful. At least, Ross hoped he sounded hopeful.

"I...I..." He met his gaze again. "Sure."

"Behind a bookshelf, or at a table?" He smirked. Ross flushed even more red than before, his grip tightening on his phone. "I'm only kidding, mate, I'm joking." He laughed. "See you." He moved to walk away, and Ross moved to pick the book up from the floor at his feet, before he was stopped with an abrupt " _oi_!" from the other side of the shelf, a few steps away. He glanced through the space on the shelf to see Alex grinning over at him, eyes screwed up as he called from halfway across the library, not seeming to care who overheard as he addressed Ross. "Don't forget to call me, right? You're pretty cute, it would be a waste of an opportunity!" He laughed, before turning abruptly on his heel and leaving the library.

Ross ducked back and pressed his back against the shelf as other students glanced in his direction, curious to see who the boy had been addressing. God, did that boy have no shame? He grasped the book tightly in his hands, breathing heavily and waiting for the blush to leave his cheeks, eyes closed and head pressed back against the shelf.

When his face was no longer burning scarlet and his breathing had returned to normal, he let a smile worm its way onto his face. Jesus  _Christ_ , he was cute. Loud, persistent, shameless, cocky - but at least he was cute. Dammit. 


End file.
